


And I Been Waiting

by writ_green717



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Concerts, M/M, One Direction Tours, story of my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writ_green717/pseuds/writ_green717
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After nearly a year since Zayn Malik quit One Direction, he decides to pay the boys a visit at one of their concerts in London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Been Waiting

AND I BEEN WAITING

**QUICK DISCLAIMER: I in no way own these character (obviously)***

 

 

 

It had been over a year since Zayn Malik had dropped his contract with Modest! Management and left the teeny bopper band. A year since he’d spoke with Louis, Niall, or Harry. Nearly nine months since his last phone call with Liam.   
Zayn shook his head. He shouldn’t be doing this. It could all just be rumours for all he knew, but a sliver of Zayn’s mind believed that it was the truth. He ran his hands through his buzzed hair anxiously. He shrugged on his leather jacket over a plain white tee shirt.   
“They won’t even know you’re there,” Zayn mumbled to himself. He ran a comb through his hair out of habit and checked it in the mirror. No one would notice him there. Zayn just had to know that his boys were okay.   
Zayn closed the white door to the hotel room he’d been staying in for the past week debating if it was worth it, going to the concert and seeing them without them seeing him. His black boots padded lightly on the velvet carpet down the hotel hallway that buzzed with the energy of teenage girls who milled around awaiting the arrival of the four boys. Zayn pushed his shades up on his nose, and he pushed on the revolving door of the London hotel. 

 

The drive to venue was short, rationally, but in reality, every second ticked by like an hour, and Zayn continued to glance out the tinted windows of the SUV to check if the driver was close. Zayn’s finger fumbled over the tickets in his left hand, thumb rubbing over the printed words with his seat number in the third row.   
“You ready, Mr. Malik?” the driver asked when the car parked in the loading lane.   
“Uh, yeah,” Zayn nodded. He ducked his head to clear the roof of the car and slammed the door behind him as he sauntered into the venue, his tickets in his back pocket accompanied by his phone. It buzzed several times while Zayn waited in line to have the ticket stub ripped and be shown to his seat. The twenty three year old ignored them and turned off his phone to avoid the distraction.   
Are you sure you want to do this? A voice in Zayn’s head pestered. It’ll just hurt even more after you see them.  
I know, I know, Zayn argued. But I have to see them. One more time can’t hurt.  
The concert hall grew darker as the opening act began to play, some pop artist that Zayn could vaguely remember listening to once or twice before, but the band name lost to him. Red and white lights danced around the stage while the singer jumped around the stage singing loudly into the mic. Zayn began to regret shutting down his phone. The crowd shouted and screamed at impossible pitches as the opening act left the stage and John Legend’s “All of Me” began to play over the sound system. Subconsciously, Zayn swayed back and forth to the tempo of the song, and then to the tempo of the next song.  
Maybe you should leave, the voice suggested.  
No. I made a promise, Zayn insisted. He adjusted his gait and pulled his pants up around his waist just as the four remaining members of the band ran onto the stage. The crowd screamed and whistled as they began their first song—“Steal My Girl.” It wasn’t until half way through the song that Zayn noticed that the crowd was singing his solo in “Fool’s Gold” and “18.” They were soft and hesitant, but not one of the members of the band sang the parts. They continued to hold their microphones out as they walked around the stage, waving their arms in time with the music that the band boomed through the amps. Zayn whispered these lyrics, remembering recording them with the guys in the studio way back when.   
The crowd echoed the same words they did after a particularly emotional song that used to have one of his solos to Liam: are you and Zayn okay? Liam luckily said the same thing every time, that they were okay, even if he hadn’t felt Liam’s heartbeat in nine months or he hadn’t heard Liam’s morning voice in almost a year. Zayn hadn’t had the opportunity to brush back Harry’s curls which seemed to grow longer every day in a year. Zayn hadn’t opened his fridge to find it empty and Niall sitting on his couch in over a year. He thought about those moments as the song began to smear together.   
Do it, the voice persisted. One shot at this, bud, might as well be now.   
One Direction began to sing the song that would mark the halfway point of the show. The music began to fade in and Zayn smiled inwardly. It was one of his favourite songs to sing with the guys at concerts like this, allowing for a shroud of honesty to blanket itself over the crowd through the lyrics.   
“Written in these walls are the stories that I can't explain  
I leave my heart open but it stays right here empty for days  
She told me in the morning she don't feel the same about us in her bones  
Seems to me that when I die these words will be written on my stone” clapped along with the crowd as they sang. A girl turned to glance over at him. She stood stock still, clamped a hand over her mouth and fell into her best friend. The chorus came and Zayn belted it:  
“The story of my life  
I take her home  
I drive all night  
To keep her warm  
And time is frozen (the story of, the story of)  
The story of my life  
I give her hope  
I spend her love  
Until she's broke  
Inside  
The story of my life (the story of, the story of),” Zayn’s voice merged with those around him, but the girl beside him nudged her friend again.   
The first girl was blonde wearing a pair of skinny jeans a Union Jack tee shirt with her straight hair tied in a messy bun. Her friend was a brunette whose hair was tied up similarly, wearing a skirt of sorts with a One Direction shirt pulled over a tank top hastily, probably from having bought it recently just before the show. Her friend nudged the girl on her right and the train continued until the girls waved Zayn into the aisle. The gaggle of girls shoved him forward just as his verse began in the song. The crowd grew silent despite the mics being turned toward them to sing Zayn’s solo.   
Without thinking, Zayn spoke, his voice soft, but it ricocheted around the venue hall, calling the boys’ attention down in front of the stage.  
“And I been waiting for this time to come around  
But baby running after you is like chasing the clouds,” Zayn belted and then merged it with the chorus like he’d done for years, except this time the boys didn’t join in. Liam bent down to lend Zayn a hand and pull him onto the stage. Gratefully, Zayn accepted and was pulled under the lights.   
“The story of my life  
The story of my life (the story of, the story of)  
The story of my life,” Zayn finished the song and it died like the clamoring noise from the crowd. Liam pulled the raven haired adult into a bone crunching hug, followed by Niall joining in with Harry and Louis soon to follow. It was then that the crowd whooped and hollered and clapped.   
Liam’s strong arms remained glued to their place around Zayn’s shoulders for the remnants of the set, and then after, backstage, Liam ushered the man around like he’d never been backstage or led to a car that would drive him to the hotel before.   
In the car, just Liam and him—Harry, Niall, and Louis had been driven in a second SUV similar to the one that had brought Zayn to the concert earlier that evening—sat next to each other, Liam’s hand on his knee.  
Zayn’s voice dropped in volume and he glanced at Liam through his peripherals.  
“Is it true?” he asked wearily.  
Liam nodded. “Management dropped us,” Liam sighed. Zayn nodded thoughtfully.  
“Who’s your new manager?” his voice dropped another notch.   
Liam shrugged. “Music Nomad. They’re pretty chill.”  
Zayn nodded. He slumped against Liam’s side. He should’ve felt glad that the boys got a better manager. Their old manager barred the stupidest things and forced wedges between them. Zayn shook his head. They were better now. Better manager meant better press. Liam looked at Zayn carefully.  
“You want back in?” he asked quietly.   
Zayn held his head up and leaned forward. He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Liam’s cheek and nodded with a small smile.   
“Yeah, I think so,” he whispered. Liam pressed a quick peck to Zayn’s lips just as the driver pulled into the hotel. Liam squeezed Zayn’s hand reassuringly before they stepped out of the SUV and into the hotel where they would crash before continuing the tour just as they had started, with five members.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll continue with this. thank you for reading this far! Please don't forget to comment and leave kudos!


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